Forgetting But Not Yet Forgotten
by Hop Scotch And Bananas
Summary: Dean has just lost his 14 year old brother, but something tells him Sam’s still around.
1. It’s Okay Little Bro

**This story is also on Wattpad. My username is HopScotchAndBananas. If you like the story, please leave a review.**

**I don't own Supernaural.**

Sam's mind was going a mile a minute. School was easy, but he can't help getting annoyed when people like Roy and Kurt antagonize him 24/7. He's been held at this school for just over a month. Apparently dad was having trouble catching the monster that ran these streets, and it doesn't look like he'll find the thing anytime soon. He usually likes to stay at schools for as long as he can, but this time was different. There's two guys, Roy and Kurt. They always find ways to get under his skin, or make him mad. They recently started to get physical, and Dean noticed. That part didn't last long, but they just went back to words. Whoever said "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is a load of crap. Just because it rhymes doesn't mean it's true.

It's close to the end of the day, so he can get out of this hell soon. But instead of being able to walk home and clear his overly clustered mind, Dean has to pick him up.

He's fourteen years old, yet his father didn't trust him to walk home along. But John would never admit that. He'd always pull the,'I trust you, just not other people' card. It's really just one more dumb excuse his father used, and one more way to tell him not so suddedly that he didn't trust his son.

So when he walked outside of the building that reminded him of a prison, he could see the Impala sitting in the first row of cars. Dean had stepped out of the car to smoke. His father would kill Dean if he found out, and Dean would kill Sam is he squabbled. It was a perfect triangle if rules the other doesn't know about.

He stepped up to the car and opened the door. He stepped inside while throwing his bag in the back. Not caring that there is a folder full of homework he won't be able to get done because he'll be training instead of living his life. He usually found himself in a fight about that stuff with his father, but the already pounding sensation in his head told him it wasn't worth it. Not today anyway. He'd be the soldier his father wanted, and not the son any other man would want. But only for today.

The smell of Dean's leather jacket mixed with gun powder filled his nose with a sensation of home. Although the strong smell didn't help his headache, it felt nice to be so close to his brother.

They didn't really speak on the way home, or in other words to the crappy motel they were taking residents in. It wasn't really 'homey', but it'd do.

The second they stepped into the room, their father was barking orders to get to the field and out of site to train. Even though he wanted to sleep and ease his mind from all the things that was tumbling in his head, he just nodded and said "Yes sir",just to not start anything. He really couldn't handle another screaming fit, and anyway, he was afraid they'd get kicked out if they disturbed the neighbors one more time.

His father decided to drive while Sam and Dean enjoyed the ride. The field they normally trained at was only ten minutes away. It was out of sight from anyone who wondered the streets or old dirt roads. Trees rimmed the whole place. It was perfect. The minute they stopped, their father got out to grab things from the trunk while the two other boys got out to find their traditional spot to train. They started off with shooting. Their father would set up his glass beer bottles on a log, then they'd have to aim and shoot. It wasn't the worst thing to do, although it would eventually get painful to hear. Even with the little rubber earplugs in, the sound was still excruciating. It made the headache worse. By the time he was to his 11th bottle, sweat beaded his face.

" Sam! You need to aim higher. You're too low, now you're just wasting my bullets," his father belted. In fact Sam has only gotten six out of the eleven he had aimed for. Dean could get at least nine.

" Yes sir, sorry sir," Sam said, keeping the agitation out of his voice. John was kinda surprised to not hear a snide comment come out of his son. He expected something like,"I'm trying or Id like to see you try when you're this short"

And anyway, he was pretty good for his age. Better than any kid his age should be. But then thoughts of demons and vampires creep in and tell him it's better for them to be prepared, then be monster chow. He looked back at his son. Same blinked at the bottles. Little did he know, Sam was trying to get the sudden blurriness to leave.

" Shoot the damn thing already!" John yelled, probably still a little drunk. He always was.

Sam shot the gun again, but he missed. He tried again, and missed again. The third time he hit a bottle, the blurriness and vertigo having subsided. He hit the next two, then gave the gun to Dean. He hit all but one. His father smiled at Dean, his obviously favorite son.

Well I'm sorry Sam though, Dean has had almost six years extra of practice.

They didn't start training Sam until a he was like nine. Dean started at about four. He can't be as good as Dean, it was just simply not possible.

They put the guns away, and did a lap around the whole field. It was at least a mile. Despite the countless times he's done it, this time especially took him down. Dean finished a whole two minutes before he did. His arms and legs getting heavier and heavier each step he took. By the time he finally got back to his father and brother, they had to start wrestling/sparing.

" Do we have to?" Sam finally allowed his tiredness to show. Sweat laced his face, his skin was pale, and his cheeks sunken in.

" Yes, training is not optional, it's mandatory. Now hurry and fight your brother."

John said angrily. Dean gave Sam a shrug. He could see his little brother was tired, but he couldn't let his father see him go easy on the kid. They got into the fighting stance, and Sam raised his fist to lay down a punch, but it was easily blocked by Dean. As a counter attack, Dean karate chopped Sam's side. He stumbled, but regained his stability. A wave of dizziness came over him, had he had enough water to drink today? He didn't know, all he knew was that his brothers fist was coming at him. He just barely moved out of the way.

Sam decided to lay a punch in his brother's chest area, but got kicked in the side before he had the chance. He fell to the ground and coughed. Every ounce of air was ripped from his lungs. He couldn't help the feeling of nausea to creep into this throat.

Dean ran to his side.

" Oh my god Sam! I'm so sorry!" Dean said as he kneeled down to his sprawled out brother.

Through the slight gasps, Sam managed to say

" It's- Kay"

" Here, let me help you up," Dean said stretching out his hand after he stood up. Sam reached up, but moving that fast made his head spin. When he got on his feet, Dean had to hold onto him so he would fall over again.

" Dude, are you okay?"

" Y-Yeah, just a-little dizzy,"

" Maybe we should call it a day?" Dean half demanded and half asked his father.

" I guess, let's go home," John said grabbing the left over equipment while Dean lead Sam to the car.

He opened the door, and let Sam climb in. He stood outside of the door while Sam leaned against the sat in front of him, his legs outside the car door. Dean kneeled in front of him with an opened bottle of water. Sam's shaky hands grabbed the bottle, and he took a small sip. The water seemed really cold, and he couldn't help a shiver. Dean saw, and concern started to really take form. He placed his hand on his brothers forehead and felt the heat radiate off. Sam winced at the coldness of Dean's hand.

" I think you have a fever," Dean said now placing his hands on Sam's cheeks.

Sam took another sip of water, but it instantly turned its way back up. He put his hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. He hated to puke. Hated it. It was the worst part about being alive, of even existing.

Dean could see his brother's urgency, and knew what was coming. He grabbed Sam and pulled him away from the Impala, and Sam instantly started to puke. He leaned on Dean, but he was far enough away to not puke on him. Dean rubbed Sam's back.

" It's okay,"Dean soothed. John came around to see what all the commotion was. Sam was bent over Dean throwing up everything he had rated for the past two years. John looked at his soon with pity.

" He has a fever," Dean said, looking at John.

" Okay, well when he's done, get him in the car so we can take him home,"

Dean nodded and moved the bangs out of Sam's eyes. They sat there for about five minutes, and all the puking had stopped. The only sounds left were Sam's heavy breathing and crickets.

" You done?"

Sam nodded.

Dean lifted his brother up, but he couldn't stand on his own two feet. Dean had to pick him up bridal style and put him into the car. Dean got in the front, and John drove.

John looked in the rear view mirror. Sam was leaning heavily in the back seat. His face was pale and sweaty. His eyes were closed, but lines of pain creased his face. Sam looked really sick, and he was starting to feel bad for making him train. They had to stop two times for Sam to throw up the little water left in his stomach.

When they got back to the hotel, Dean had to carry his little brother into the room. He placed Sam on the bed, and took off his shoes and jacket. It started to scare him at how little Sam reacted to his touch now.

John came out from the bathroom with a thermometer.

He placed the end under Sam's tongue, and put his hand on his son's head. It felt almost like fire under his fingertips.

The thermometer finally beeped and he picked it up to see the reading, it was 103.4.

" Son of a-" John started but stopped himself. He put his hand over his mouth and rubbed his lips with his hand. Sam's temperature was too high, and he needed to lower it. Maybe he should bring Sam to the hospital.

" Dad, that's way too high!" Dean said taking the thermometer and setting it on the table.

" I know, we have to lower it."

They went into the bathroom and soaked clothes and put them all over Sam's body. He didn't react at all

" I have a bad feeling about this dad," Dean said looking worriedly at his brother.

" I know, I do too. This isn't like some flu or cold I've ever seen," John said staring at the flushed look on his youngest's face.

" Do you think we should take him to a hospital?" Dean asked. If it wasn't for the wheezing sound that starting to come from Sam's throat, John would've said no, but this was really starting to scare him. He didn't like to admit it, but this was one of his sons. Anything that puts their lives in danger scares the living crap out of him.

" Yeah-Yeah let's get him up," John said reaching for Sam. He held the young teen in his arms and brought him out to the car.

Dean started to panic. If his father thought that they had to go to the hospital, then it must be real bad. They always treated everything by themselves, but this time, they can't treat whatever this was.

" Calm down Dean, he'll be okay,"

Dean tried to believe that, but he couldn't.

The ride to the hospital was slow. Even though it couldn't have taken more than seven minutes at the speed John was driving, it felt like an eternity. Each second Sam's breath got more and more labored, and the heat started to intensify. They rushed in holding their youngest family member and yelled for help.

Several nurses and doctors came running to assist. They grabbed the teen from John's arm and he yelled.

"No! I need to stay with my son! He's mine, and you can't keep him away from me, he needs me!"

" He can't get help when you won't let us do our jobs." A nurse said trying to push him back. It only pissed him off.

" Please, just let me stay!"

By now a more muscular man came up and tried to shove John away. That was a bad mistake on his part, because John threw a punch at the doctor.

Security guards were taking his arms and dragging him out. He yelled the whole time, swearing and fighting back.

Things around the ER started to continue with its regular duties.

" I-is he gonna be okay?"Deans rough voice sounded surprisingly quiet. The medical staff just realized that someone else was there.

" You have to go to the waiting room son," one of the men said. A nurse took the cue and led him away. He looked for as long as he could before he faced forward and kept walking.

A woman handed him a clipboard with paper, and passed him a pen.

" Fill out as much as you can, we'll deal with the rest," the nurse gave him a small smile. He tried to return it, but he only made it look like a grimace.

'Full Name of Patient' Samual Micheal Winston

Good enough right?

He tried to fill out the rest, but he didn't know much about their fake insurance. It was always changing, and they rarely went to the hospital anyway.

He sat there for about an hour before a man walked out with a bruised cheek. He knew that was the doctor his father punched. He stood up and faced the man.

" I'm sorry my dad hit you, he can have trouble handling his anger when he's scared,"

" That's understandable," The man said.

" How's my brother?" Dean was really scared of what he was gonna hear.

" Here, sit," He said sitting as well." He has a really high fever, and is dehydrated. We are running tests to prove our suspicions of what it is,"

" Well what do you think it is?" Dean asked, swallowing down a small sob.

" It's a new viral flu that's going around in the mid west. It's hard to treat, but we'll do whatever we can,"

" What do you mean whatever you can? He's gonna be all right isn't he?" Dean was starting to panic. Sam has to be okay, he just has to.

" Well there's no cure or a virus, you just have to ride it out, and treat the symptoms as they come. You have to hope for the best, and hope that he's strong enough to battle the virus,"

" Could. Could this kill him?" Dean could feel tears drop. The kid was only fourteen, he can't die.

" Like I said, it depends on how strong his body is against the virus. But yes, some have died from this,"

" Can I see him?" Dean said wiping a tear away. He hated to look weak, but right now he'd make an exception.

" Yeah, sure. I'll show you the way." The doctor said standing and starting to walking down the white halls.

When they reached Sam's room, he was scared to look in. He was scared to see how vulnerable Sam looked. But he had to go in. He had to see Sam.

He expected Sam to be small and weak. The kid was always scrawny and small for his age, but what he saw was nothing like he'd imagined. Sam was lying on the hospital bed with heart monitors on his chest, and IV in his right arm, an NG tube in his nose, and a nasal canal to help him breath. He walked in and sat in the chair next to Sam. He was so pale, he was whiter than the bed sheets.

He couldn't fight the sobs any longer. How had this happened? He was fine this morning. He seemed pretty okay when he picked Sam up from school, maybe a little off.

But this was nothing like how he though this day would end up being like. He looked so thin and fragile. He sat their holding the too warm hand for about ten minutes before he realized something was wrong. Sam had mostly stopped breathing, and the alarms started to go off. A nurse came running in, and so did a couple doctors. One removed their stethoscope from their neck and placed it on Sam's chest.

" We need to intubate," He said.

Dean was shoved to the corner of the room while the doctors worked on helping his brother breath. It was like an eternity, but each of them started to back up, and the alarms stopped screeching. There was now a tube in his brother's throat to help him breath.

Although that scared him, the look on the doctor's face was worse.

" I'm sorry, but it seems Sam is loosing his battle against the virus. If his heart stops, we won't be able to restart it. His chances of recovery are closer to none that even one percent. I'm sorry." The doctor couldn't help but pity the young man in front of him. By his medical opinion, he believe this boy was gonna die. He was just too weak. And the worst part is, they did nothing wrong. The virus comes on fast, and it disintegrates it's host in the matter of hours.

" What do I do now?" Dean said shaking his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

" I think he can hear you. Talk to him, help him move past,"

Dean only nodded. He though if he opened his mouth he's start historically crying. Sam can't die, Sam can't die, Sam can't die, Sam can't die, Sam can't die. All that ran through his mind was horrid ways his brother was gonna go. He couldn't stand it.

Dean walked over to the left side of the bed. He placed his hand in his brother's . Sam's fingers slightly squeezed and pulled toward him. Dean got the hint. He climbed into the hospital bed with his brother. Being careful of all the tubes and wires coming out of his brother, he leaned Sam into his chest. Sam's hands started to bunch up Deans shirt. Even unconscious, he needed his brother.

He wrapped the cooling blanket around his brother and held him tight. A tear fell from his face and landed on Sam's head.

" You need a haircut," Dean laughed and stroked his brother's hair.

Then the noise of the heart monitor let out one long beep. Sam's heart had stopped.

" It's okay little bro. It's okay, I'm here,"

TBC

This almost made me cry


	2. I Can See You

Dean held his dead little brother in his arms. The fists that had been clenching his shirt loosened.

" I'm sorry Sammy, I-I can't save you from this. Not this time," Dean was crying. He hadn't really cried like this for so long. A nurse came in to shut off the heart monitor. She gave Dean a sympathetic smile. He didn't try to give one back this time. He just lost the one most important person in his life. He couldn't. His whole existence was on making sure Sammy was safe and healthy. But this time he failed. Maybe if he had seen it coming earlier he could have saved Sam.

The kid's body was still warm from the lingering fever, but his chest stopped taking in breaths when the nurse shut off the ventilator. He was truly gone. They could no longer shoot fireworks without their father knowing, he couldn't see the smiles that spread on Sam's face when he looked at the sky, or even his grumpy moments when Sam pouted. They would all be gone. And what would his father think when he saw Sam, or didn't?"

Dean stayed there curled up with his brother for over an hour before the nurses insisted on bringing him away. Before he had threatened to snap their necks if they took his brother away, at that they left him alone.

They'd have to get his body back to salt and burn, it's the hunters way out. But Sam didn't like to be a hunter, never has, and probably never would've. He just sat in the room, dazed at what he just experienced. Wondering what to do.

Then his father came storming in" Where's Sam?"

Dean didn't answer, he didn't even acknowledge that his father was even speaking to him.

" Dean!"

He still didn't answer right away but then he finally spoke,

" He's dead, dad. Sammy's gone."

John could barely hear his son over the quivers in his voice, but he could understand. He started to breath fast and cup his jaw. Sam was gone. He was too worked up and scared, and now he missed the last time he could've see his son. He should've stayed calm, he would've been able to stay and see Sam. Maybe even pressure the doctors and nurses to save Sam's life with more passion. They sat there in silence for a long time, just thinking. Their life without that chirpy and scrawny kid would be boring. Sam was the only person with life in the family, he was still gold and pure.

They eventually had to leave and go back to the motel. Dean clutched the necklace Sam had given him years ago. This was the only thing he had now to connect him to his baby brother. He promised himself to never take it off. He needed the close reminder of what he once had. Without Sam, it was like someone took his heart, and squeezed until it no longer beat. He couldn't help think about all the possibilities that had been lost due to this misfortune.

They had to tell his school what happened, and that wasn't a fun job to do.

" Mr. Winston, I'm so sorry to hear about this loss to your family. You can come and clean out Sam's locker. He has some stuff you guys may like."

" Thank you, I'll stop by later," Dean said.

He shut the phone and slammed it into its holder. This can't be happening. Once they clean out Sam's things it's official. But he had to go anyway. He walked into the school and went to locker 299. It was of course a top locker because Sam wouldn't be able to get down low enough to a bottom. The combination was written on a price of paper Sam's principal gave him, 7-21-35.

He opened it up, and he looked inside. The first thing he saw was two binders, and a notebook. The notebook looked personal, and he couldn't help the urge to open and read it. Sam wasn't here to tell him no.

The first page was dated, like a diary. If Sam wasn't dead right now, he would've so made fun of him for this.

March 5,

Dear today,

I wanted to make this because I might never live a good and happy life the way it's going right now. But I have hopes and dreams like every other person. I want to become a lawyer, and have 2 maybe 3 kids. I want a wife and a house with white shingles and a cobblestone foot path. I want my father and brother to come over on Saturdays for game night, and maybe Dean bring his own kids. He might not want them because he's 'too tough' and doesn't like them. But I know in the inside he's a soft kitten, although on the outside he is as stubborn as a horse. He'd be a god father, even though he would never admit it.

These are all dreams, some are literal. I dream of these things at night. I have kids with a woman I love, and we live a normal life. I'm a father, and a great one at that. I want it so bad, but I can never have it. I could leave my brother and father, but I can't. I love Dean too much to go. He's my everything, and he's the only reason why I live. He gives me hope and joy. If Dean offed himself I wouldn't be too far behind him. I couldn't live without my ugly brother to kick my ass whenever I get out of line, which is a lot. Anyway, I have my dreams, and in here, I can make them true. This book has endless possibilities, and I can make my dream life come true.

-Sam

Dean couldn't help a tear to slip at the thought of what Sam really wanted, and now never could have.

The whole book was written in. All about what he wants and what he likes, who he likes. There's this one girl, Roslyn, that was mentioned several times in the first few innings of Sam's diary, book thingy. She had brown hair, up to her shoulders. It was curly, and beautiful. He must have really had a crush on her to write so much. He found an extra bag in the corner of Sam's locker and started to pile the books and binders inside.

He got to the door of the locker, and saw what Sam had taped there. There were really good drawings of what looked like a demons, that if only people really knew. Then left was some writings and awards. But in the corner was a picture of him and Sam sitting on the hood of the Impala. They were laughing. Dean smiled and took the picture down. He looked at it closer. It must have at least been two years old. It was as stained and wrinkled.

He put this one in his pocket and shut the locker.

He gave the school one last look, and left. He never wanted to come back here. This place was too much of a reminder of Sam. Even the thought of Sam's name made him want to break down.

He got home to his father looking at a body wrapped in white sheets, lying on a mound of sticks. After he searched the house he found his father here. His father was gonna burn Sam now. John heard Dean approach, so he decided to start. He figured Dean would have wanted to be here.

He pored lighter fluid all over the sticks and cloth, then threw the lighter at the mound. It instantly went up in flames. They watched their brother, son, burn. He's really dead, they thought. John walked away first, and Dean soon followed him. John wanted to avenge his sons death, but he can't. A person or a monster didn't kill his son, a fever did. He can't get justice like he can for his wife. Still to this day he hasn't been able to get the demon that killed her. Sometimes it seems useless, and he mind as well give the boy's a normal life. He could have given Sam a regular life.

They quickly packed their things and left this god awful town.

A little while later...

John started to drink more. He was always drunk now, I guess he couldn't handle losing a son, but he forgot he had one right here. He was never home anymore, and he was more strict than usual.

Dean held the amulet in his hand while sitting on the couch. It has been two months since Sammy died. It's been the worst two months of his life. He was in denial and he got depressed. His whole life he was trained to take care of Sammy. Now he can't, so what can he do? Nothing. His father is also overly protective, if he even sneezes his father is making him take cold medicine or forcing him to sleep. In reality they were cooking onions and he smell tickled his nose.

He continued to sit on the couch, and stare at the blank TV.

" Aren't you gonna turn it on?" Someone said.

Dean jumped so high he could've hit the ceiling.

He look to his right where he heard the voice, and saw Sam sitting in the old, stained chair.

" Wha-"

" I think ima ghost." Sam said showing how he can't hold things, they just go right through him.

" Sam?"

" Yeah! Did you forget me already?"

"N-no. I- we burned you. You should be gone!"

Dean was puzzled. Sam looked like Sam, except maybe a little fizzy. But he was there, and talking. He's a ghost?

" Well I'm not," Sam said smiling sarcastically. The last thing he remembered was black. Everything he could see was black, but he could hear his brother speaking to him. Although he was in pain, and hot at the same time as cold, he felt relief to know his brother was there. And then he found himself here, and not necessarily human.

Just then John walked in to see Dean sitting on the couch facing the chair with his mouth open.

" What's wrong Dean?" John said putting beer on the coffee table.

" You can't see him?!" Dean said pointing to the chair," Sam is right there. It's-I think he's a ghost or something!"

John looked at the chair to see nothing.

" Dean, there's nothing there. Sam's gone, we burned him remember?"

Now John walked over to feel Dean's forehead. He didn't seem to have a fever, this was strange, even for them.

" Dad, he's right there!"

John went to get the EMF detector.

" If this lights up, then that means he-or something's here. But I don't think he is son. After we settle this get some sleep, you need it,"

John turned the detector on and put it near the chair where Dean claimed to see Sam. But nothing happened. Dean grimaced at the way nothing had happened.

" But he's right there," Dean said quietly.

" Go to bed Dean, get some rest."

Shocked, Dean listened and walked to his room.

John shook his head. This was effecting his oldest probably the worst. He was already pretty upset, but now he's seeing things? This was a whole new level, and he was starting to get worried.

Dean laid down in the bed, and turned to his side. He stayed still until he felt the bed lower beside him. He turned to see Sam climb in with him. Sam was cold, and airy like. He didn't have a regular body like a human, but it was still him.

" What can't dad see me?"

" I don't know Sammy. But we'll find a way to prove you're here."

Sam nodded and Dean fell asleep knowing his baby brother was right there.

The next morning Dean awoke to Sam not being in the bed. He went to the kitchen and saw Sam sitting at the the table trying to move a salt shaker. He was grunting and it obviously wasn't working. Funny it was salt too, like that'd be good anyway with him being a ghost and all.

" What are you doing?" Dean said looking at Sam while getting coffee ready.

" What does it look like?" Sam said rolling his ghostly eyes.

" Like an idiot." Dean laughed.

John walked in to see Dean talking to himself. This was getting out of hand.

" Good morning son," John said patting Dean on the shoulder.

" Sons" Sam said still sitting there.

Dean couldn't help but laugh.

John was confused, what was Dean laughing at? He proved that Sam wasn't there last night, the EMF didn't read a single thing. Sam wasn't here, Dean was just seeing things.

This went on for four more days before John called the psychiatric unit at a mental institution for an appointment. He needed to figure out what was going on in his sons head.

" Where we going?" Sam said, sitting in the back of the Impala.

Dean said the question for him.

" I need to figure out what's going on with you Dean. I've gotten an appointment with a psychiatrist to see what's going on."

Dean blew up.

" I'm not crazy dad! Sams here, you just can't see him!"

The way he was acting was nothing like the regular Dean, something was wrong.

" I can't, because he's not there. I've proven to you he's not. There's no cold spots, no EMF, nothing moving by itself, or lights flickering. It's all in your head!"

Dean crossed his arms and turned towards the window.

" I'm not crazy,"

" I never said you were!" John hit the steering wheel," You just- you need help. And I know, I do too. We lost Sam. I loved him just as much as you did, but I know reality from fiction."

Dean did his best to not say anything. His father never loved Sam as much as Dean did. Dean raised Sam, not John. He didn't lose a son, Dean did.

They pulled into the hospital looking place and got out of the car. Dean slammed the impala's door, and that got him a glare from his father.

He was angry and determined to show that he's not crazy, but the moment he entered, all his confidence fled. He felt like a little kid going to the doctors office. He was scared, maybe his father was right. What if Sam was only in his head?

" Ah, Mr. Warren, follow me to my office,"

John and Dean followed, not knowing where this was gonna go.

Once they entered, the Doctor started to talk.

" So you must be Dean?" The doctor said stretching his hand out. Dean was hesitant to shake, but he did.

" I'm Dr. Stevens, and I'll be talking to you today."

" Okay," Dean said sitting down.

" Now may I ask for a few minutes alone to talk to your son?" Dr. Stevens said to John.

" Uh, Yeah sure," John stepped out and Dean looked like he saw a ghost. He literally did, Sam was sitting in the chair next to him.

" Wow, you're so messed up you have to talk to a shrink," Sam laughed.

Dean would've responded, but he was determined to show that he wasn't crazy. 'It's your fault anyway jerk' Dean thought.

" So I see you were about to talk to someone, may I ask who?" The doc said staring Dean down, making him even more uncomfortable.

Dean shook his head," No one,"

" Wow Dean, am I not here?" Sam glared at his brother. Dean looked at him.

" I know how you must feel right now, but I don't think you're crazy. And from what your father told me, you have lost a brother recently?"

" Yeah, and?"

" Well it's not always uncommon to see dead family members after they pass, it's a stage of denial."

" I'm not in denial!" Dean yelled standing up.

The doctor was stunned by the kid's sudden outburst.

" Okay, okay. Just sit back down so we can talk,"

Dean was getting really agitated. This man thought he was crazy. Maybe he was? He didn't care. But no, he knew that it was Sam, he just knew. He was confused.

" Wow, this is weird," Sam said getting up to go.

Why? Dean thought as he looked behind him to see Sam leave. Great, the doctor saw that. Now he thinks Dean's crazy.

" You know what? How about you get your father to come back in, and you can wait in the waiting room so when he comes out you can leave?" The doctor smiled at Dean. Ugh. He needs to brush his teeth.

" Sure," Dean said getting up as fast as he can to leave. The doctor took note of that too.

" Mr. Warren, I could only analyze him for a few minutes, but he seems to get very agitated very fast about little things. Has he always had a short temper?"

" Um, well, he couldn't really, he helped raise Sam after his mother died, and Sam wasn't always cooperate," John hesitated when he said his dead son's name.

The doctor smiled.

" I'm sorry to hear about your other son. But Dean seems to see his brother correct?"

" Yeah, I guess," John rubbed the back of his neck.

" I mean it's common for people to see their dead relatives, but them not speak back and forth like you said he does. Not to mention, this came out of the blue, months after your son died. So, it's my medical opinion that Dean is exhibiting the early symptoms of schizophrenia,"

John's mouth went dry. It made sense, but how could this happen? Dean was only 18.

" Dean is only 18 years old, how could he have schizophrenia?"

" Well there's no certain age that schizophrenia can occur, some are born with it, and sometime it's come on itself. Now we have homes and special programs that could take Dean in, nice ones too. You may think you can handle this, but the type I think Dean has, it will get hard to handle him. He has already had small outbursts, as you could see. I think it's for the best you consider your options."


End file.
